


Before You Met Her...

by AlienShea



Series: brainrot saga [1]
Category: Friday Night Funkin' (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Breakups, Developing Relationship, Gun Violence, M/M, Memories, POV Second Person, Unhappy Ending, Why Did I Write This?, anyway, obviously, use of drugs and alcohol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 04:14:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28629396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlienShea/pseuds/AlienShea
Summary: ...you met him.A collection of memories from an aspiring musician about the first person he really loved.In 2021 I'm embracing my cringe lmao I have brainrot
Relationships: Boyfriend (Friday Night Funkin')/Pico (Pico's School)
Series: brainrot saga [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2100459
Comments: 30
Kudos: 286





	1. The first time you met

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally a one shot but I got carried away and wrote around 75 pages in Docs. Whoops. Anyway, all chapters will be uploaded at the same time. 
> 
> CW; alcohol, drugs, lots of swearing, illegal activities, smut, gun violence, homophobic slurs, panic attacks

_ February, 2019. You remember the day you met _

You meet by chance of course, as all good things do. It was your senior year of high school, freshly eighteen, graduating in a few months. No real plans in life, just going day by day, seeing where life would take you. And on that day, it took you in a whole new direction.

One of your classmates, a fella who wasn’t really a friend so much as someone to kill time with, suggested that the two of you get fake IDs and sneak into this club downtown, some real shifty place known in Philly for letting minors in. So, that Saturday, you did just that. Hell, the bouncer barely looked at the IDs, he just let you go past. 

You were slugging back shot after shot of some disgusting shit you never want to drink again when you hear someone shout over the music for your ‘friend’ David. You looked over without moving your head, annoyed already. 

“Oh, hey Pico! Didn’t know you still lived in these parts,” David said, nearly spilling his drink on you.

“Fuck, dude, it’s hard to keep in contact with me if you never text, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, fuck off, you never text me either.”

Pico laughed, raising his hands in defense before turning to look at you. “Who’s this guy?”

You let David introduce you as you took another shot, forcing down a gag.

“He goes to my school, practically had to drag his ass out here.”

You fought the urge to say it’s because David can be a bit much when he drinks.

“To be fair, man, this place fucking sucks. Hey, you wanna go tag shit with me?”

“As in graffiti?” you heard yourself ask.

Pico smirked at you. “Hey, you do talk! Thought you were a fucking mute. Yeah, graffiti. You want in?”

You hesitated, suddenly feeling uncomfortable at the idea of tagging with a stranger, but you really wanted to leave this place with loud, shitty music and louder, shittier people. You eventually gave in and agreed.

The three of you then headed out, scouring bridges, alleys, and abandoned buildings for a place to paint. They kept talking about some new event in a video game you don’t play, so you tuned them out and continued to walk in silence. You finally found a side of a brick wall in an alley that would seem to do the job well. You weren’t much of an artist, so you were assigned as lookout while David and Pico got to work, although you barely did anything more than smoke and scroll through Twitter.

Pico popped the cap off of a can of black spray paint and got to work, making small talk with David about what they’d been up to since they last saw each other. You began to feel uncomfortable and left out. You had half a mind to just leave until Pico turned to you.

“So what’s your story, pretty boy?” he said, smirking.

You were taken aback, of course. “Pretty boy?”

David chuckled. “Yeah, Pico flirts with anything that moves, you’ll get used to it.”

Pico laughed quietly to himself as you responded, “What do you wanna know?”

“Well,” he started as he stepped back to look at his progress, “A name would be a good start. Getting sick of calling you ‘dude’.”

You took one last drag off your cigarette and threw it on the ground to snub it out with your foot before you answered. “Boyfriend.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Well, fuck, take me to dinner first at least. And they say I’m the flirty one.”

David laughed. “No, no, that’s his name. Or, what he goes by at least.”

“Wow, your parents must’ve had high hopes for you,” Pico snickered. “What’s your real name then?” 

You grimaced before replying, “Just fucking call me BF.”

He raised his hands in mock self-defense. “Touchy!” He then turned around and continued his work. 

You decided to sit down on the asphalt while they finished their art. It was starting to get colder as the night went on into the AM, your thin jacket not doing much to combat the goosebumps that were rising on your arms. You had wished that they’d get done faster so you could just go home.

Finally, after around two and a half hours, they stepped back from the wall. You had almost fallen asleep, still feeling the alcohol and bundled up on the ground, but you were just excited to get home to get home already.

“What do you think, BF?” David asked. 

You stood up and walked over to the wall to get a closer look. David’s art wasn’t anything you hadn’t seen him scribble in his notebooks, just his name in a blocky font with an unnecessary amount of arrows fucking everywhere. You gave him a thumb’s up and looked over at Pico’s. His was...unsettling. It appeared to be a portrait of a rotting devil’s face with blood coming from his eyes. You felt his arm wrap around your back, tensing as he pulled you against him.

“So, you into it?” he asked.

“It’s, uh, a bit dark.”

He laughed, his body shaking against your side. “Yeah, I’m a little fucked up in the head, but that’s what makes me so lovable!” He winked before letting you go, and as much as you tried to convince yourself you were annoyed by him, you still thought about that wink all that night.

“Alright, it’s getting late. We better go back to the car,” David said.

“Sure thing, man, I’ll walk you guys back to the club. Ain’t like I got anything else to do right now,” Pico replied with a shrug.

The three of you then started to walk back. It would’ve been fine if Pico hadn’t started playing music on his phone. It was a song by some Soundcloud rapper, nothing you recognized, but thirty seconds of it was enough to annoy you. It sounded like shit. You were just going to keep your mouth shut until David piped up.

“Hey, BF, why haven’t you put your shit on Soundcloud yet?”

You could practically see the way Pico’s eyes lit up. “Yo, you rap?!”

You cringed into the hood of your jacket, wishing he would drop it.

“Oh yeah! His shit is pretty good too!” 

God fucking dammit, David.

Pico ran ahead and blocked your path, stopping you. “Well, c’mon man, give me a taste!”

You felt your cheeks burn from embarrassment. “Rather not.”

He scoffed. “What’re you so fucking embarrassed about? With a voice like that, I bet it sounds sexy.”

You flushed more and grimaced. “Dude, fuck off, I barely know you.”

He rolled his eyes and stepped aside. “Fine, be a pussy, I’ll hear it one of these days.”

You started walking again, annoyed and ready to be home.

You only made it a few more blocks before Pico stopped walking in front of a liquor store. He turned to you guys with a shady smirk, which made your hair stand on end.

“Hey, stay here for a bit, kay?”

He didn’t let you guys give an answer before he turned and walked into the store. You looked over at David, questioning. He just smiled and shaked his head.

A few moments later, Pico bursted through the door, very clearly hiding something in his jacket. 

“Go, go, go, go!” he shouted as he ran past you and across the street.

You didn’t have time to process what was happening as David grabbed your sleeve and dragged you. Once you realized that Pico just  _ fucking robbed a liquor store _ , you shook him off and took off in the direction Pico went. Your lungs and legs burned, but you didn’t look back or stop until you caught up with him a few blocks east. He was leaning against a wall in a back alley, waiting with a fire in his eyes that terrified you. You collapsed onto the ground beside him, panting. David wasn’t far behind, stopping in front of you and putting his hands on his knees. 

Just as you started to be able to breathe again, you felt Pico tap you on the top of your head. You looked up and saw him grinning, a bottle of tequila in hand. Top shelf shit, too, way too overpriced for how small it was. For the first time that night, you actually smiled back.

He pushed himself off the wall and beckoned for you to follow. “C’mon, I got a place to go.”

He led you to a nearby overpass on the outskirts of uptown. You then sat down and passed the bottle around, drinking for the better part of an hour. You started feeling comfortable around Pico, funny enough. He’s crude and obnoxious, sure, but he could be entertaining. He tried to impress you by rapping, although he didn’t quite know how to make the words flow like he wanted to. 

After the bottle was nearly empty, Pico threw it to David with a chuckle. You saw him pull a vague shape from his waistband. 

“David! Pull!”

David threw the bottle into the air, and suddenly your ears were ringing and shards of glass were raining from the sky. You looked over, panicked, and finally you understood what he held. 

“You have a fucking gun?!” you nearly shrieked. 

He cackled, almost hysterically. “Of course I do, do you know what fucking city we live in? I keep this baby on me at all times.” He noticed your anxiety, lowering the gun and softening his expression. “Don’t worry, I’m well trained.”

That didn’t make you feel better at all.

You’re distracted by David retching onto the ground beside him. To be fair, he did drink most of the bottle. You groaned, concerned about how you were going to get him home. Maybe you didn’t think this through.

“You good, man?” Pico called.

David responded by laying back on the ground and promptly passing out.

Pico chuckled to himself, but you were already annoyed again. “He’s my ride,” you say quietly.

Pico turned to you, face relaxed. “Well, you got anywhere to be tomorrow?”

You shook your head. It was a Saturday, so you didn’t have school.

He grinned, pulling his phone out. You heard him talking to one of his buddies about needing a ride, and no more than fifteen minutes later a blue car rolls up. You and Pico shared the burden of carrying David to the car and throwing him in the backseat. The guy behind the wheel raised his eyebrow at the sight. 

“Picking them up a little young, aren’t we?”

Pico rolled his eyes as he took his seat beside you and closed the door. “Fuck off, man, they’re just friends.”

Mystery driver man just shrugged and started to drive. It was then that you realized you had no clue where you were headed. Pico seemed to pick this up at the same time as you.

“We’re going to my house so you can sleep it off. Don’t want you guys driving drunk.”

You supposed you should’ve been flattered, if it wasn’t for the nagging feeling of being kidnapped. 

The drive was fairly silent, save for David’s snoring. You looked out the window. It was just starting to get light out. Other than the bit of time you spent half-asleep in a dirty alley, it seemed like everything happened so quick. What a weird night you had.

The car stopped in front of an apartment complex just a couple blocks away from the club. You guessed it was Pico’s place. Now you understood why he had a gun, this place was shady as hell. Better than sleeping outside under a bridge in February, you supposed.

Pico thanked the driver and helped you carry David to his apartment, luckily he was on the bottom floor so you didn’t have to attempt stairs. Pico fumbled with his keys for a bit, bitching about how hard it was to fish through his pockets while holding the legs of a near comatose man, but he finally got them and opened the door, leading you inside. His place was...not the nicest, but you didn’t expect much of him anyway. He led you to his couch, plopping David on it and grabbing a nearby blanket to cover him up. 

“There. Hopefully the fucker doesn’t puke on my floor tonight.” He paused for a beat before going to the kitchen to grab a pot. “I know David, he’ll need this.”

You snickered. “Where’s your bathroom, I’ve had to piss for hours.”

He pointed to a door in the hallway you had assumed was a closet. After doing your business and washing your hands, you found Pico in the kitchen drinking tap water. He offered you a glass, but you refused, head swirling and ready to just sleep.

“So you got a spare pillow and blanket?”

He cocked his head ever so slightly. “For what?”

“To sleep?” you responded in a tone more hostile than you intended. 

“You’re sleeping on the floor? I got plenty of space in my bed, you know.” He winked as he walked out of the kitchen past you.

“Gonna have to refuse your offer,” you replied with a hint of a smile. David was right, he really did sort of grow on you.

He put his hand over his chest, feigning being offended before he walked to his room. He returned with a pillow with no cover and a scratchy looking blanket. It was your turn to be “offended”, taking the items with a frown.

“Wow, way to treat a guest,” you said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Pico grinned. “Should’ve slept in bed with me.” He turned to go to his bedroom. “See ya in the morning!”

Even though the floor, blanket, and the pillow were incredibly uncomfortable and you felt like the world was spinning, you fell asleep almost instantly.

The morning after, you woke up with a killer headache and a twisting gut. Judging by the noises coming from the bathroom, you guessed David wasn’t feeling much better. The sound only makes things way worse, and you end up being the one having to use the pot. Not the best way to start a morning.

Pico walked into the living room, appearing completely fine. He leaned against the wall as he lit up a cigarette. You finally stopped heaving enough to speak, hoping you didn’t look as miserable as you felt.

“Sorry about the pot.”

Pico shrugged and exhaled. “I’ll just throw it away, no biggie. Not the first time it’s happened.” he said around a mouthful of smoke. “You look like shit, dude.”

You chuckled dryly as you set the pot down beside you. “Appreciate it.” Pico walked over to you and offered you a smoke, which you gladly accepted. “How’re you feeling?”

He shrugged again. “Not bad. Better than you two. I rarely get hungover anymore.”

You hummed in acknowledgement as you lit up, grateful for the nicotine.

Pico pointed to the pot. “You done?”

You nodded, knowing that you didn’t have anything else in you. He picked up the pot with a grimace and dropped it in the trash can. David came out of the bathroom as Pico was walking back into the living room. He looked worse than you’d thought he would. 

“Hey, man, welcome back to the land of the living!” Pico greeted.

David groaned, holding a hand up to his head. “Please shut the fuck up, my head is killing me.” He walked over to the couch, practically collapsing onto it. “How did we get here?”

“I had a friend drive us because  _ somebody _ blacked out,” Pico responded.

“Oh, my fucking bad, Saint Mary, I didn’t mean to.”

Pico laughed quietly as he sat down on the sofa, you and David following suit. Pico offered you another cigarette, and you took it quietly. He did the same to David, but he looked at him with a strange expression. 

“Seems you two got awfully close since last night,” he said. 

“We didn’t fuck, if that’s what you’re implying,” Pico replied casually, lighting up before handing him the lighter.

“Would you even tell me if you did?”

Pico chuckled. “Probably not.”

That all but confirmed your suspicions that he was into men in some sort of way. You weren't sure why that information was important to you. Sure, you’ve been curious about guys, but you weren’t into Pico. You idly wondered if him and David ever did anything.

The three of you sat in silence, smoking and watching whatever was on the TV. Some show like Dr. Phil on the free cable channels. You took a peek at your phone, cringing when you see seven missed calls from your mom. You shot her a text letting her know you were fine and safe, just crashed at David’s after drinking. You knew you’d get bitched at for it but at least you mostly told the truth.

When David felt okay enough to drive, you started to get ready to leave, making a quick pit stop in the bathroom first. On your way out, Pico grabbed your arm.

“Hey, what’s your number?”

“Why?”

He rolled his eyes. “Because I had fun partying with you, duh. We’re friends now.”

You snorted. “That’s all it takes for you?”

“Is there anything else I should be looking for?”

You hesitated before pulling out your phone and letting him put his number in. If you did want to hang out with him again, it’d be you who’d be the first to text.

He handed you back your phone with a lazy smile as he waved you out the door.

You were so sure that’d be the last you’d see of him.


	2. The first real conversation you had

_ March, 2019. You remember the first real conversation you had. _

Two weeks had passed since that night. To be honest, you’d almost completely forgot about Pico. You had been too stressed about school. Spring break was coming up soon, but you were failing three of your classes. If you didn’t get your shit in order, you’d fail this midterm and have to take up extra classes. Graduating in July seemed like a shitty end to your high school career.

You were reading through your math assignment, not even beginning to understand what you had to do. You were so close to just accepting defeat and taking the extra classes before your phone went off. Curious as to who could’ve been texting you at eleven at night, you opened your phone.

**> bit disappointed you haven’t texted me, pretty boy**

You cringed when you saw the name at the top of the screen.

**> wtf howd you get my number**

**> david duh**

Mentally, you cursed David. You were supposed to be the one to text first. You hated being in awkward situations like this.

**> why are you texting me so late i got school in the morning**

**> booty call**

You quickly received another text as you were typing.

**> joking. unless?**

**> no.**

**> fair. well why are you still up?**

**> homework. bout to give up tbh**

**> i’d offer to help, but i’d be no use to you**

**> wasnt asking for help tho**

**> fuck why are you such a downer?**

You scowled. You knew you were being unnecessarily rude, but you didn’t know how else to act. This was a guy you hung out with for one night. A gun-toting, flirtatious weirdo. Why should you even try to make friends? It wasn’t like you were planning to be in Philly forever.

You sighed and put the phone back down. You decided to just try to finish your homework and get some sleep. You didn’t even get past the second page before your phone began to ring. 

_ Don’t pick up, don’t pick up. _

You hit the green button.

“Oh. I didn’t expect ya to answer, honestly.”

You sighed, closing your eyes and leaning back in your desk chair. “What do you want?”

“Dunno. Just bored.”

“Then call someone else?”

“But I don’t want to talk to anybody else,” he said in a tone that was somewhat pleading.

Somehow, that was both flattering and creepy.

You sighed, pushing yourself away from the desk and standing up. “Fine, I give up anyways.” You went over to your bed and laid down, stripping off your jeans and shirt in the process. “What do you wanna talk about, then?”

“Tell me about yourself. Who really is Boyfriend?”

“This sounds like something we should’ve talked about before getting drunk together.”

He laughed real low, involuntarily making you smile. “True. What a fucking weird night, dude. It had been a while since me and David hung out.”

You went ahead and put him on speaker so you could browse through Facebook. “What do you wanna know about me? I’m nothing special, you know.”

“Aw, don’t say that shit! I think you’re pretty awesome.”

You smiled again. “You don’t even know me!”

“Then tell me!”

You thought of what to say. “Well, I’m eighteen, and I’ll be graduating soon.”

You heard him inhale something. “What do you plan to do after?”

“After school?” You hadn’t planned on doing anything. There wasn’t a career you were super interested in. “I don’t know.”

“Hm. Alright, your turn.”

“For what?”

“I asked you a question, so you get to ask me one too.”

“Is that what we’re doing?” You gave yourself a little time to think. “Do you steal often?”

He bursted out in laughter that turned into a cough. You laughed along with him, actually starting to enjoy his company. It was a nice change after cramming math for hours.

“That’s the best you could come up with? Really?” he rasped.

“Fuck off, man, I’m bad at this!” You waited until your laughter died down before continuing. “Answer the fucking question, alright?”

“Okay, okay, fuck! Don’t get hostile,” he chuckled. “Uh, yeah, I guess I do. Why, you into bad boys?” You could practically hear the tease drip from his voice. 

“You fucking wish.” David was right, you were starting to get used to the constant flirting. 

“Alright, my turn. Uh…favorite color?”

You smiled devilishly. “Whose got the weak ass questions now?”

“Hey, prick, this is a good question! I’m curious.”

You chuckled quietly. “Red. Yours?”

“Green.”

“Ooh, Christmas colors!”

Pico snorted. “Man, I fucking hate Christmas.”

“That’s a shame, I love it.”

“Aw man, does that mean I’m not your perfect guy anymore?”

“Oh, don’t flatter yourself, you never was.” You hoped he could sense that you weren’t trying to be rude this time. “My turn then? Hm, how long have you been living here?”

“Only a couple years. I’ve kinda been bouncing around places for a while.”

“Where else have you lived?”

“All kinds of places. Mostly cities.”

“Well, where are you from?”

He didn’t say anything for a while, before replying with, “Thought it was my turn.” He laughed, but it sounded almost hollow to you. 

“So, uh, what’re you doing tomorrow?”

You were taken aback for a second. “Well, school. Otherwise, I have no clue.”

“You wanna come hang out at my place? I’m off work so I’ll be bored.”

You had to think. You don’t usually make friends, you’ve always preferred to be alone. Despite that, you felt yourself growing closer to Pico, which was weird as hell. All the people who make friends with you in school and you chose him? Still, you supposed you had to grow up and be social someday.

“I guess so.”

“Fuck yeah, I knew I’d grow on you!” You could hear him smile through the phone.

“You wanna push your luck?” you asked, knowing you weren’t serious. You took a quick glance at the time on your phone, stomach sinking when you saw that it was nearly one. “Shit, how long have we been talking? I have to get up in like five hours!”

“Oh, yeah, should’ve mentioned that, my bad. So, tomorrow, it’s a date?”

You rolled your eyes. “Not like that, weird ass.”

He laughed again, this time genuinely. “See you then.”


	3. When everything started

_ June, 2019. You remember when everything started _ _. _

You were so fixated on what was happening on TV that you forgot that you were holding onto the blunt until Pico shook your shoulder. 

“Hey, asshole, stop wasting it!”

You blinked back to reality and passed it to him with a quiet chuckle. “Sorry, sorry!”

He snorted at you before taking a hit. “That’s it, I’m cutting you off.”

You shrugged. That was fine by you. You were definitely high enough, you didn’t need any more.

You turned back to the TV, watching whatever action show was on. You had forgotten the name of it. But there was a hot girl on a car, so that’s all that mattered at the time. 

You and Pico had been hanging out for some time now, around three months or so. By some miracle, you managed to graduate, although you skipped the ceremony. David had moved to New York for college, so there really wasn’t anyone else to hang out with. You didn’t mind though, and you were happy for David. 

Pico had also become one of your best friends, at least he was the closest thing to a best friend that you’d ever had. You had a lot of the same interests and usually could talk for hours about nothing. You had even started to jokingly flirt back with him. 

Well, maybe not joking.

There was an issue with your friendship. Somewhere in between the late night smoke seshes and the flirtatious remarks, you had noticed some...uncomfortable feelings you were developing for Pico. You had chalked it up to just the excitement of having a real friendship for the first time in a while, though, so you tried to ignore it as best you could. It wasn’t always easy.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Pico blowing smoke rings. You laughed quietly. “Fucking show off.”

He gave you a lazy smile. “Whatever man, you’re just jealous that you’re not cool enough to do tricks.” He paused, staring off into space for a couple seconds before continuing, “I bet if I tried to shotgun you, you’d choke.”

You weren’t thinking when you replied, “Try me.”

He went tense for a moment before smiling again. “Okay.” With that, he took another drag before turning to you.

Your mind was working in slow motion as he leaned into you, lightly grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up at him. He leaned in just a bit closer, just until your noses touched. He stared you down with half lidded eyes as he began to blow the smoke to you.

You didn’t comprehend for a bit, staring back at him with wide eyes. Slowly, you relaxed and began to inhale the blueberry-flavored smoke. The act was way more intense than just joking around, you realized. What were you doing? What was  _ he  _ doing? Shockingly, you didn’t choke, instead exhaling back into his face. He laughed real low in his throat but he didn’t pull away . 

You hesitated for a moment, but just a moment, before you grabbed at his shirt collar with both hands and pulled him towards you.

He met you with no resistance, instead grinning into the kiss and dropping his hand from your chin to your hip. He lightly pushed you to lay down on the couch, taking a moment to put out the blunt in the ashtray before settling to lay down on top of you. Your mind was a fuzzy haze, not focused on the consequences or inner reasons of your actions. You tangled your fingers into his hair, trying and failing not to show him how needy you were. He didn’t seem to mind at all, actually seeming to enjoy the desperate tugs, if the subtle grinding was anything to go by. 

You don’t know how much time had passed by the time Pico pulled back, panting and staring down at you with a flushed face and spit down his chin. You would’ve hated to know what you looked like. 

He laughed low in his throat, the noise making you swallow a moan. “I fucking knew it.”

You tried your best to pretend you were annoyed, but you ultimately failed and grinned. “Oh? What exactly do you think you know about me?”

He shifted his weight onto one hand to cradle your face with the other. “Nothing big, just that you’re into me. Don’t be embarrassed, the feeling’s mutual.”

You faked a scoff and playfully swatted his hand away. “No idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh?” The hand that was on your face started trailing down to your groin. “What’s this then?” he asked as he gently squeezed your clothed dick.

Your eyes went wide and you were unable to stop the groan that escaped from deep in your throat. Pico laughed again, continuing the torture as he leaned down to nip at your neck. 

“You wanna keep talking shit?” he breathed into your neck.

You laughed as best as you could while breathless. “Fuck you.”

“You want to?”

You thought he was joking before you noticed that he stopped the teasing, instead casually nuzzling into your neck. You went tense, weighing your options. You weren’t a virgin, not at all, but you’d never been with a guy before. And...this was Pico. Did you even know him well enough for that? 

He sensed your change in mood and quickly sat up, moving his hands to your hips. “Hey, hey, don’t freak out. We don’t gotta do anything you ain’t comfortable with.”

You had to admit, you were surprised. You hadn’t imagined that Pico would be so compassionate. Given his usual personality, you’d had him pegged as someone who only cared for himself. Instead, he was looking down at you, eyebrows furrowed in genuine worry. The sight of it made that light feeling in your chest harder to ignore.

“I- uh, I don’t know if I’m ready?” Your voice came out a little too high pitched, and you cringed at yourself.

“Don’t worry about it, baby, we got all the time in the world,” he purred in a way that made your stomach flip. He paused for a moment before continuing, “Can I still suck your dick?”

It was so bold that you couldn’t help but to break down in laughter. He gave you a confused smile. 

“Is that a no?”

“No, no, it was just out of nowhere. Uh, I guess so if you want.”

“I’ve been wanting to since the first time I saw you.” He winked, then leaned back down to kiss you again.

You accepted the kiss hungrily, raising your hips to Pico’s as he rolled into you. You felt as his hands drifted from your hips to the waistband of your shorts. You got a surge of anxiety, and you had to keep reminding yourself that he wanted this just as much as you did. It was hard to convince your brain that someone actually wanted to be with you.

Pico sat up with a frustrated look. “Hey, big ask, but can you sit up?”

You were confused but obliged, sitting up once he got off your legs and stood up from the couch. Once you were up, he grabbed you by the legs and rotated you so you were facing him. He leaned down to give you one last intense kiss before suddenly dropping to his knees and pulling down your shorts. A wave of embarrassment washed over you, making you flush and look away from him.

He snorted, taking a hold of you and lazily stroking. “What’re you being so shy for? You’ve got a nice dick, dude.”

Well, he certainly had a way with words. It was enough to make you smile and chuckle quietly, quickly being replaced by a sharp inhale of breath when you felt something hot and wet encase you. You gripped the couch tight and tried to keep the noises to a minimum, with little success. Every now and then you’d let out a soft moan, cringing every time. 

Pico noticed you clawing at the couch and quietly took your hand, placing it in his hair. You shyly laced your hand in his hair and tried your best not to tug too hard. Unfortunately, not even a minute later, he did  _ something  _ with his tongue that caused you to accidentally jolt your arm and force him further down. He swatted your hand away as you sat there, mortified. 

“Fuck, I’m so s-sorry!”

You closed your eyes, feeling like you ruined the mood. Pico stopped moving and tapped your leg. You looked down at him and he grabbed your hand again and placed it on his head, smiling around your cock before going all the way down to the base. You gasped silently, gripping his hair harder than you mean to. The sight alone was enough for you, but Pico seemed to like the hair pulling more than you thought.

Pico looked up at you, lust and fire in his half-lidded eyes, and  _ moaned. _

“Fuck!” you nearly screamed as you doubled over and came harder than you ever had. Somewhere, you vaguely felt Pico dig his nails into your thighs, but you were too blissed out to feel the sting of it. He had just sat back on his heels and wiped his mouth on his hoodie sleeve when you came to, and before he’d had the chance to say something smart, you gripped his shirt and pulled him up to you, forcing his mouth open with your tongue. You ignored the fact that you could taste yourself, instead focused on Pico’s groans. 

“C’mere,” you demanded politely, helping him up into your lap. He seemed unsure of it, until you reached into his pants and started stroking him. You pulled him back into the kiss, letting him claw at your hair and shoulders. It didn’t take him long to release onto your hand, surprising you both. You looked up at him, amused. 

He flushed and looked away. “Shut the fuck up, blowing you was hot, okay?”

You chuckled as he got up to get something to clean up. “I’m not judging you!”

He wiped himself off with an old towel, throwing it to you before saying, “Yeah, whatever. I just wasn’t expecting it.”

You hummed as you cleaned yourself, throwing the towel to the side and pulling up your shorts. Pico stretched, and your mind started to drift into self-doubt. What happens now?

“Hey, lay back down and scoot over.”

You snapped out of your thoughts. “Huh? Why?”

He raised an eyebrow. “So we can lay down together?”

“Oh!” You quickly moved to let him lay down next to you. He did so, throwing an arm around your stomach and resting his head on your chest. You wrapped your arm around his back and pulled him closer to you. You didn’t think he’d be a cuddler. It made your heart swell.

This felt way too natural, which was equally amazing and confusing. It was something you’d only had repressed thoughts about. Logic would say that this was just a one-time thing, something casual. Your heart just wouldn’t accept that, though. You thought back to the stuff he’d said when you started.

“What’re you thinking about?” Pico mumbled quietly, like he was on the verge of sleep. 

You tensed, not realizing that you could be so easily read. You figured there’s no better time to talk about it. 

“Did you mean what you said?”

“You’re gonna have to be more specific.”

“About...mutual feelings?” You could feel your cheeks burn.

“Like whether or not I liked you back? Yeah, I meant it. Why, did I read the wrong signal?”

You breathed a sigh of relief. “No, you didn’t. I just wanted to make sure.”

He sighed and propped himself up so he could look at you. “Stop freaking out about shit, okay? We could’ve done this a long time ago if you had told me you liked guys.”

You weren’t sure how to respond. Sure, you’ve made out with random guys before while drunk, but you never actually thought deeper into it until you met Pico. 

“How long have you had a crush on me?” you asked, trying to lighten the mood.

He blushed slightly, looking away before laying back down onto your chest. “Don’t word it like that, man, shit. Uh, probably since that first night, I guess. Thought I was making it pretty fucking obvious.”

“Oh,” you started. “To be real with you, I thought you were just joking. It’s kinda real fucking hard to pin down your personailty. I just assumed you were one of those straight guys who liked making people feel uncomfortable.”

You feel the rumble of a chuckle on your chest. “Other than the straight part, you’re not far off. I like to think of myself as the straightest, most confusing fag there is.”

You winced involuntarily at the slur. “Jesus, man, you can’t just say shit like that.”

“What, ‘fag’?” He shrugged. “Figured gay people can say it.”

“So, you’re straight up gay?”

He shrugged again, shifting so he was a little further up on your chest. “Haven’t exactly had good experiences with women, so as far as I know, probably.”

It was quiet for a bit, save for the show still on TV, before he spoke up again.

“What about you?”

You thought for a moment. “I mean, I’ve been curious I guess. Never really thought about it until recently.”

“Was I the one that converted you?” You could hear the shit-eating grin.

You rolled your eyes. “Sure man, whatever makes you feel good.”

He suddenly moved so he was straddling your legs. “Aw, little BF had his first gay experience.” he mocked.

You tried to throw him off, but he was surprisingly strong. “Fuck off!” you laughed.

He chuckled before leaning down to kiss you, this time softer than before. To know he felt the same way about you as you did about him, it made your chest tight, and this time you didn’t fight it off or ignore it. 

He sat back up, yawning. “Enough flirting, I’m fucking tired.”

You sat up and propped yourself on your elbows. “Yeah, I bet you are after busting so quick.”

He shoved you back a bit. “That’s it, get out of my house.”

You laughed. “I doubt you really want me to leave.”

He rolled his eyes, but he had a smile. “Fine. Can we move to the bed? Your fat ass is gonna push me off the couch.”

You nodded, finally feeling the effects of sleep. He got up and led the way to the bedroom. The two of you stripped down to your boxers and hopped into the bed, resuming the same cuddling position you had on the couch. 

You had almost drifted off to sleep before Pico spoke up.

“So, just so we’re clear, we’re dating now, right?”

You chuckled. “Yeah.”

He threw his leg across your body, pulling you in. “Cool. Night.”

You snorted. “Goodnight.”


	4. When you said 'I love you'

_ July, 2019. You remember when you said ‘I love you’. _

By the time the phone alarm went off three times, you were fully awake and pretty pissed off. You reached over and snoozed it again, deciding you’ve had enough. Although, you didn’t know which was worse; the many alarms or trying to wake your boyfriend up for work. 

You rolled over and sat up, looking over at the sleeping figure beside you. You sigh, knowing that he didn’t get to sleep until around midnight, so this was going to be like pulling teeth.

You gently shook his shoulder, hearing a groan of protest. “C’mon, Pico, I’m sick of hearing this fucking alarm.”

He wrapped his arm around your waist, locking you in place. “Turn it off, then,” he mumbled.

“If I turn it off, you won’t get up.”

He groaned again, letting go of you and rolling to his back. He rubbed his eyes and you were excited that he seemed to be waking up easier than you thought. 

“Man, I’d rather fucking die than go to work right now.” He sighed, peeking at you from behind his hand. “Coffee?”

You nodded, getting up and stretching your arms before pulling on a pair of basketball shorts and heading to the kitchen. You started the coffee pot and killed time by going through your various social media. When the coffee was done, you fished in the dish drain for two mugs. You had just started to fill one when you were startled by arms wrapping around your shoulders. You smiled and paused to put the pot down, turning around to be greeted by a morning kiss.

Pico moved from your lips to your jaw to your neck. “Good morning,” he whispered right below your ear.

You shivered at the contact, making him chuckle. “You’ve got morning breath,” you said, voice cracking from sleep.

“And you sound like you’re thirteen.” He let go of you so you could pour the coffee, handing off a mug to him. “Thanks, Bee.”

Everytime he used that nickname, you thought you would pass out. “One of these days, you’ll have to make your own coffee.”

“I did it for a year before you,” he said after burning his tongue. 

“I don’t know how. I feel like your fucking mother.”

“Fuck you,” he laughed as he walked to the couch. 

You grabbed your mug and sat beside him, turning on the TV to Netflix. After browsing for a bit, you settled on watching your favorite show for the third time through. Pico said nothing, quietly sipping his coffee and placing a hand on your thigh. 

You had been dating for around a month now, maybe a little longer. While you technically still lived at your parent’s house, you stayed over at Pico’s maybe four or five days a week. You were actually thinking of just moving in so you didn’t have to keep paying the bus fare. You weren’t sure how you’d convince your parents though.

Of course, they knew you were dating. Once you had made it “Facebook official”, you were bombarded with questions of your sexuality. As far as your parents and classmates knew, you had been straight your whole life. It was a bit of an adjustment for them, some not so polite as others. Whatever, you didn’t mind what people thought of you. You were happy now, finally in a real relationship. That’s all that mattered. 

You set down your mug on the coffee table and reached for your pack of cigarettes. You grabbed two and gestured to Pico to hand you a lighter, which he found in the pocket of his jeans on the floor. You lit your cigarette, handing him the other one and lighter. The two of you smoked in silence for a bit, watching a full episode before anyone spoke.

“Are you staying here or going back home?”

You shrugged. “I’ll probably just stay here. Don’t really wanna go home today.”

“I get it. But you know you gotta go back eventually, even if it’s just to get your stuff.”

You’re taken aback. You hadn’t talked to him about moving in yet. “You’d let me move in?”

“No shit, Bee. It’s been cool having you around.”

You flushed slightly, realizing how fast you were moving. Was it too fast? At the time, it just seemed right. Natural, even. 

Pico took a peek at his phone, seeing the time and cringing. “Shit, I’m running behind.” He quickly chugged the rest of his coffee before getting up, putting the mug in the sink and going to the bedroom to get dressed. He was back in no time, gathering his shit and walking to you.

He gave you a quick kiss on the forehead. “I should be off by seven.”

“Okay, have a good day.”

“Fucking doubt it.” He paused. “I love you.”

You sat there, stunned at how casually he said it. Sure, you’d thought it, but you’ve never said it. It just seemed like too much too fast. You’re happy to know he felt the same. “I-I love you too.”

He exhaled loudly, like he was holding his breath. He smiled, bending down to give you a longer kiss before heading to the door. “I’ll be home soon.”

You waved him out, dissolving once he closed the door. You sat there, grinning like an idiot for around an hour, no longer paying attention to the show on TV. You loved him. He loved you too. You were gonna move in with him. You were gonna live together for who knows how long, maybe forever. You idly wondered if you would get married.

You shook your head, telling yourself to dial it back. It had only been a month. Getting ahead of yourself would only lead to disappointment if things didn’t work out. 

Mood crushed, you stood up to put your cup in the sink. You suddenly had an idea for the day. You retrieved your clothes from the bedroom and got dressed, trying in vain to hide the hickey on your neck from yesterday. 

All ready to go, you left the apartment. You thought that waking Pico up for work would be the hardest part of your day, but that was nothing compared to trying to convince your parents to help you move.


	5. The first time

_ July, 2019. You remember the first time. _

“Is this the last of the clothes?” Pico asked as he carried another box to the bedroom.

You stood up from the floor and took it from him. “Should be.” You looked over to the other two boxes of clothes that you couldn’t fit into Pico’s drawers. You sighed as you stacked the box on top.

Pico chuckled and put a hand on your shoulder, turning you around to embrace you. “Congrats, you’re officially living with me now. Although, if I had known that you’d have so much shit, I wouldn’t have offered.”

“Yeah right, you wanted this just as bad as I did.”

“In your dreams, pretty boy.” 

He sat on the bed, pulling out a bowl and some weed from the nightstand. He patted the bed beside him and you agreed about needing a break, sitting down beside him. The two of you smoked for a bit, talking about what Pico did at work and how stressful unpacking everything was. It felt nice having someone to finally talk to. You spent a long time keeping your stresses to yourself. You always figured nobody wanted to hear them, but Pico was so interested in your day-to-day that you felt comfortable telling him anything on your mind. 

“So this fucking prick comes up to me, talking about how I didn’t ‘bring him the parts he needed’, like fuck off, man, that’s not my department. Fucking talk to someone on B line or something.”

You knew he’d kill you if you told him this, but it was kinda cute to see him get worked up over something. He’s certainly no stranger to anger issues, but he never seemed to get angry with you. Annoyed sometimes, but not angry.

He noticed you smiling to yourself. “What?”

You shook your head, laughing quietly. “Nothing. Just like to listen to you rant.”

“What, why?”

“You’re cute when you’re angry.”

He looked away from you, red dusting his cheeks. “Fuck off, no I’m not.”

You leaned over to kiss his cheek and whisper in his ear. “You’re cute when you’re flustered too.”

“That’s fucking it!” he shouted as he pushed you over onto your back. He got up and straddled you, pinning you down with his legs and holding your arms by the wrists with his hands. You giggled, trying in vain to break free.

“There, you’re stuck now. Stop talking shit and I might let you go.”

You tried to wiggle out again, choking a gasp when Pico sat down onto your lap a bit too forcefully. You prayed he didn’t notice the growing bulge in your boxers.

He noticed your face, mistaking it for a face of defeat. “Giving up so easily? Don’t be a pussy, Bee.”

That’s it, it was time to make him shut up. You planted your feet onto the bed, and as hard as you were able to, you rolled your hips up.

He definitely felt it, eyes going wide and mouth open in a silent moan. He looked down at you, equally annoyed and turned on. “You kinky fuck, that’s cheating.”

“Cry about it,” you chuckled.

He grinned as he adjusted his legs, properly straddling you. The grip on your wrists became tighter and he slowly rolled his hips in a circle. You groaned as a spike of lightning shot through your lower stomach. 

“I think you’re forgetting who’s in control here, babe.”

You tried to break free again, the lack of something to hold on to making you feel weightless. Pico seemed to enjoy the torment, eyes piercing you as he watched you struggle. You wondered just how much of a sadistic side he had. 

He leaned down to begin sucking and nipping at your neck a little harder than he usually did, but you weren’t focused on it. The grinding between you was getting more intense and you started to panic. 

You actually haven’t done anything more than fooling around, always getting anxiety before you could take it further. It wasn’t that you didn’t love Pico, you were just worried about how well you could...uh...perform. You’d never even imagine you’d be with a guy before him. It was all new and scary.

Pico instantly noticed your discomfort and backed up a bit. “You good?”

“Y-yeah, yeah. I’m fine.”

He sighed and kissed your neck. “It’s okay, you know. I can wait forever.”

Every day he reminded you just how much you loved him. You felt guilty knowing how much he wanted you, and how he was willing to wait. You took a deep breath, realizing that there would never be a perfect time, that you weren’t going to ever be fully ready. You just had to take the plunge.

“Pico?” you started, throat tight with anxiety. 

“Hm?” he responded, lazily trailing his free hand up and down your ribcage. 

“I wanna try.”

He sat up to look down at you with poorly hidden excitement. “For sure?”

You nodded. He quickly let go of you and crawled across the bed to reach into the nightstand, where he fished out a condom and a small bottle of lube. You idly rubbed your wrists, trying not to let the panic consume you. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Pico strip out of his boxers, so you did the same with shaky breaths. It was the first time you were both completely naked at the same time, which did little to lower your anxiety.

You jolted when Pico threw the condom on your chest. “Figure you know how to put that on?”

You nodded your head, unable to speak. You had a bit of trouble trying to tear the package with shaky hands but you managed. When it was on, you looked up at Pico, his face guilty.

“Hey, you don’t have to.”

You forced yourself to say, “I want to.” It was true, but still scary. 

“I can see that you’re about to shit yourself, Bee.” He sighed and sat back on his heels. “It isn’t fun if we both aren’t into it.”

“I’m just nervous. It’ll go away.” You hesitated before you continued with, “Just, uh, don’t make fun of me if I’m not what you expect.”

“That’s what you’re worried about? Whether or not I’ll enjoy it?”

You shyly broke eye contact. That lump in your throat grew worse. You didn’t want to cry, that’d only make you more embarrassed.

You jumped when you felt him grab your hand and stroke it with his thumb.

“You cute little idiot, look at me.”

You managed to turn your head up, feeling him kiss you the moment you did. The twirling mess of nerves in your stomach dissolved almost instantly. He pulled back enough just so you can look him in the eye.

“Don’t even worry about it, baby. Let me make you feel good.”

You smiled a little bit and nodded, letting him push you back down to the bed.

“Now, lay there and relax. Let me do the work, kay?”

You watched as Pico sat back and swung his leg over to straddle you. As he uncapped the bottle and started to pour into his hand, you realized something.

“W-wait, aren’t we supposed to...uh...prepare you?”

He snorted as he stroked you with a generous amount of lube. “Not an issue, I’m plenty relaxed enough.”

To prove his point, he positioned himself, and with a sultry grin, lowered himself slowly. You squeezed your eyes shut tightly as the air left your body. This was much more intense than being with a girl. This was...almost better.

When he was fully hilted, he paused, chest heaving. You opened your eyes to look at him, nearly passing out when you saw the face of pure lust. 

“You alright?” you managed to choke out.

He nodded, that smile you adored so much ever present. “Yeah. Need a minute. You’re bigger than I thought.”

The compliment made your chest swell with pride. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He grabbed one of your hands and brought it up to his lips, kissing it. “So fucking much.”

He put your hands on his hips and leaned back, slowly starting to move. You guided him best you could. At the very least, you’ve been in this position with a girl before, so this wasn’t entirely new to you. There was just a bit more risk involved. 

You were still shy about making noise, but by God, Pico wasn’t. Every time he met your hips there was a low groan, a soft moan. And, fuck, the sight of him. You had to close your eyes just to keep yourself from busting too quick. 

That only got harder to do when you started to thrust back up to meet him. You hit something that ripped a moan in an octave you didn’t know he could hit from his throat. He stuttered for a second, pink dusting his cheeks. 

“K-keep on doing that,” he said quietly. It was rare you got to see him embarrassed.

You obliged, snapping your hips up to hit that place again and again. You had started to loose control, giving up caution to chase your own high. You’d deal with the guilt later. 

“Bee, touch me,” Pico whimpered quietly, causing you to moan low in your throat.

You did so, grabbing his dick and pumping it in time to your thrusts. You felt your own release coming, and you tried desperately to wait for him. Thankfully, you didn’t have to wait too long, and suddenly your stomach was being coated. Pico gave out one last strangled moan before collapsing. You sat up and caught him, holding him close to you as you continued to roll your hips into him over and over again. You bit into his shoulder harder than you meant to, muffling a scream as you tipped over the edge. 

You sat there for who knows how long before Pico finally pulled back, tangling his fingers in your hair and pulling you into a deep kiss. When he broke it and leaned back a bit, the two of you just stared at each other, smiling and chuckling quietly. He finally sat up and slid off your lap, letting you dispose of the condom. You then rolled over and snuggled up against his back, holding him and running your hand along his side.

You notice the bite mark, which did in fact draw blood. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” you hissed.

He lightly touched it, flinching in pain. “Ah, don’t worry about it. I don’t mind being marked.”

You kissed it for fast healing, like your mom used to do. “So, how’d I do?”

He chuckled, his body shaking against yours. “C’mon, you aren’t that stupid. You know you did great.” He reached for his pack of cigarettes and lighter on the nightstand, popping two in his mouth before lighting them and handing one to you. “Was it as scary as you imagined?”

You took a drag before answering. “I was just scared of hurting you, asshole. I didn’t, did I?”

“Well, other than my shoulder, no. You don’t have to worry about hurting me. I can take some pain.”

There was a sadness in that sentence you didn’t understand at the time. You ignored it, continuing to smoke. After some time, your eyes drifted to a scar on his arm you hadn’t noticed before. It looked old and deep, maybe permanent. 

“How’d you get this?” you asked as you lightly touched it.

Pico’s reaction was immediate, recoiling away from your touch and tensing up. You were startled, involuntarily backing away from him.

He eventually relaxed and exhaled a shaky breath. “I got it when I was a kid.”

He didn’t elaborate and you didn’t push him, instead you pulled him back to you and held him just a bit tighter. You knew he had some sort of mental health issues, although what they were and how he got them was still unclear. He would talk about it when he was ready, so you never pushed for answers.

You decided to change the subject. “So, I guess this means we’ll be able to do this more often.”

He laughed quietly, the sound breaking the tension and relaxing you. “Yeah, and maybe next time, you can bottom.”

“Wait, what?”


	6. He finally opened up to you

_October, 2019. You remember him finally opening up to you._

The storm outside was only continuing to get worse. Everytime thunder would boom around you, it took everything you had not to yelp. Pico had yet to notice, too interested in reading over the lyrics to a song you’ve been coming up with. 

He leaned back and slid the papers across the table back to you. “It’s pretty fucking dope, Bee.”

Despite the storm, you flushed and gave an embarrassed smile. You hated showing other people your music. Hated performing in front of others way more. To be real, you were an artist who hated sharing your art, a walking fucking paradox.

“So, when you gonna show me what you can do?” he asked around a cigarette. 

“Uh, w-well…”

He rolled his eyes. “There’s no point in writing something this fucking fire and not showing it off, babe. You gotta get over this self-doubt shit.”

“Fucking easy for you to say, Mr. I Have No Shame,” you shot back, mildly annoyed even though you knew he was right. 

He snorted at your sour attitude before standing up from the table. “No need to get pissy, you know. I say it all with love.” 

You sighed and relaxed your shoulders. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.”

He walked over to you and kissed the top of your head. “You’re forgiven,” he joked. 

You tilted your head back so you could kiss him proper, which was great until thunder shook the apartment again. You had forgotten it was storming, so with your guard down, you yelped a little louder than you meant to.

Pico raised an eyebrow, then failed hiding a smile. “Bee? Are you scared of thunder?”

You looked away, but with the way your ears burned, you knew that he saw your embarrassment. He giggled quietly, setting off your anger.

“You don’t have to fucking laugh at me, dick!”

Pico stopped instantly, amusement replaced with guilt. “Hey, I’m not making fun of you.”

“It sure feels that fucking way,” you responded quietly.

You feel an arm wrap around your shoulders and pull you in. You didn’t fight it. 

“I’m sorry, baby. It just took me by surprise.”

You sighed, anger melting away. It was so fucking hard to stay mad at him. You hugged him back. 

“You know,” Pico started. “I kinda get it. I don’t like fireworks.”

“Fireworks?” You were confused. With how chaotic he is, you were sure that we would love to blow shit up with fireworks. “Why’s that?”

His body tensed up against yours, and you instantly regretted asking. You assumed it had something to do with whatever trauma he was holding onto. 

“You don’t have to tell me,” you said quickly. 

He sighed and relaxed again, holding on to you just a bit tighter. “Thanks. One of these days.”

You nodded. As much as you were trying to be respectful, you were dying to know about his past. 

Turns out, you would find out what happened later that night. Usually, you slept like a rock during the night, but with Philly having one of the worst storms of the year, thunder shook you awake sometime late. You were just about to try to ignore it and fall back asleep when you heard a strange noise behind you. 

You sat up and turned, seeing that Pico was also awake. He was sitting up, knees bent into his chest. And he was crying.

Your heart sank and you reached out. “Pico?”

He swatted your hand away, not playfully like you usually do, but with intent to hurt. Your hand stung, and you were about to get pissed before he spoke. 

“Don’t fucking touch me!” he screamed. 

Your eyes widened when you realized he was having a panic attack. You didn’t know how to comfort him, so you just sat there beside him and waited, hearing his short, rapid breaths and feeling him tremble so much it shook the bed. 

After around thirty minutes, he finally started to relax, his body sagging against the headboard. He closed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair before he spoke.

“Fuck, why’d you pick tonight of all nights to wake up?”

“The storm decided for me,” you tried to joke, but it fell flat, your worry clear in your voice.

It was a bit before he talked again. “I get nightmares pretty often. You usually sleep through them.”

Guilt wrecked your body when you realized he’d been alone to deal with it this whole time. “Baby, why don’t you wake me up?”

He just shook his head, so you dropped it before continuing.

“What are they about?”

He hesitated for a bit. “I can’t tell you.”

You were still human, so of course you felt annoyed at that. “Why not?”

You heard the quiet sound of sniffling, and you realized he was crying again. “Because you wouldn’t love me anymore,” he whispered, voice cracking.

You reached for his hand, and luckily he let you intertwine your fingers. “I wouldn’t do that. There’s nothing you can tell me that I would hate you for.”

“Promise?”

The way his voice wavered when he said that broke your heart. “I promise.”

He took a deep breath, gathering courage. “I had a real fucked up childhood.”

Well, you could’ve guessed that. But you kept quiet, letting him get it all out.

“When I was real young, our school got shot up.”

You couldn’t contain the gasp that escaped, tightening your fingers around his a bit more. 

“You wondered how I got his scar,” he said, pointing to the faded scar on his arm. “I got shot.”

“I-I’m so sorry, baby. That’s something someone that young shouldn’t have to live through.”

He shook his head. “I’m not done. If that’s all that happened, I would’ve been fine. B-but… it gets worse.”

He sighed again and rubbed his face with his free hand. You just sat there, unsure of what to do. You decided that stroking his hand with your thumb was all you could do.

“The main shooter’s name was Cassandra. She came in and killed everyone in my class, right in fucking front of me. The only reason she let me live was because she liked me, I think. S-so, I ran and hid in a closet. I-I found a g-g-gun, a-and…”

He broke down into sobs so powerful he was gasping for air. You quickly pulled on his arm and let him collapse into you. You held him as tight as you could, feeling the pinpricks of tears in your eyes. It was hard to believe that this man, the strongest, most arrogant person you knew was falling apart in front of you. 

He pulled himself away, looking at you through red eyes. “I fucking k-killed them, Bee. Cassandra and the rest, I f-fucking blew their brains out, I-I-I-I…”

Suddenly he was gasping for air again and he threw himself away from you, nearly ripping his hair out as he tugged on it. 

You were completely shocked. Somewhere in your brain, you knew that he _could_ kill someone, he did carry a gun after all, but knowing that he _did_ kill, not one person but several was almost too much. 

Even knowing that, it didn’t make you hate him. He needed to hear those words.

“Pico...you did what you had to. I don’t hate you for it.”

He scoffed. “You don’t know how fucking dangerous I am. You’d be an idiot to stay with me after what I’ve done. I’m a fucking monster.”

Seeing him this broken and self-loathing was a shock to the senses. He’s usually so confident, cocky even. You couldn’t believe he thought of himself this way.

“Pico,” you started. “I don’t give a shit about your past. I don’t care about what you’ve done.”

“You can’t be serious, Bee. How does that not scare the shit out of you?!”

“It does, but…” You take his hand and kiss the back of it. “I love you. I’m not leaving.”

He broke down again, but this time it was more in relief than anything. He grabbed your arm and yanked you towards him, embracing you tightly. “You’re fucking stupid, but God I love you so much. I love you. I’ll keep you safe.”

You finally let the tears fall and you cry with him. You don’t know how long you spend holding each other and sobbing, but eventually you both lay down, tangled up in a cluster of arms and legs. You decide to break the silence.

“Why do you have a gun?”

He sighed. “Paranoia. They’re still out there somewhere. It was an organization. Since I killed off some of their strongest people, they’re looking for me.”

“It’s been so many years, baby, surely they would’ve given up by now.”

He flinched before continuing, “Why do you think I’ve moved around so much?”

You froze, realizing the weight of the situation. At any time, Pico could be killed. You held him just a bit tighter, wanting to make every moment count. 

“What would happen if they find out you’re in Philly?”

“I don’t know. I’m tired of running.”

He sounded so resigned and it scared you. You weren’t sure what you’d do if he was gone.

He noticed your nervous expression and kissed you gently. “Don’t worry. I won’t let them touch you.”

“I’m not worried about me, dumbass!” you shouted. “What am I gonna do if you get killed? Why haven’t you told the police?”

He didn’t get mad at your outburst, instead holding you closer. “You have no clue how many therapists and detectives I’ve gone through in the years. Nothing gets fixed.” He paused. “I’m not gonna die anytime soon. I promise.”

“You better fucking not,” you replied, fighting back tears. 

Nothing more was said that night, but neither of you were able to fall back asleep.


	7. You learned just how dangerous he is

_ January, 2020. You remember when you learned just how dangerous he is. _

You were just about to beat David on Call of Duty, only needing one more kill on gun game to win. You lined up your shot and was about to hit the trigger when…

“SUP BITCHES!”

You jolted and missed your shot, giving David the opportunity to snipe you from across the map with his throwing knives and take you out. 

“Hah! Get fucking wrecked!” David shouted.

You groaned and shot a glance at Pico, who had just walked in carrying two brown bags. “Pico! I was gonna win!”

He chuckled, setting the bags down on the coffee table and walking over to ruffle your hair. “My bad, babe, but I don’t think you even had a chance.”

“He’s right, you were doomed from the start,” David snickered. “You can’t beat me in this game.”

You rolled your eyes and stood up. “Fuck off, I had you so dead. If only  _ somebody _ didn’t scare me, I would’ve beat your bitch ass.”

“You’re such a sore loser, Bee.” Pico threw an arm around your shoulder. “Admit defeat.”

You break into laughter. “Oh, go fuck yourself.”

He chuckled quietly, pulling you closer to kiss you.

“Gay!” David shouted.

You broke from Pico and flipped him off. As much as he annoyed you sometimes, you were kinda glad he was home for the holidays so you could hang out again. He laughed and stood up, heading to the bathroom. Pico walked over to the bags and started pulling out various bottles of liquor. 

“Ooookay, we got a bunch of shit here. Mostly vodka and wine coolers, but I got a bottle of Jack, too.”

“Damn, alcoholic.”

“Hey, it’s my fucking birthday, I’m gonna go all out.”

“Fine, but I’m not holding your hair back.”

He laughed as David left the bathroom to join the party. David whistled as he saw the spread on the table.

“Fuck, we’re getting pretty twisted tonight, huh?”

“You got a complaint?” Pico asked.

“I don’t, but my mom is gonna be pissed when I show up hungover for my last day back.”

“Give her my apologies,” Pico replied as he twisted off the cap of the whiskey. He turned to you after throwing the cap on the table. “Hey, babe, can you get some glasses?”

You went to the kitchen and got his prized shot glasses (which really was just regular shot glasses decorated with black hearts), bringing them back into the living room. Pico and David were already sitting on the floor around the table, so you put the glasses down and joined them. 

“What’s going on?” you asked.

“We’re gonna play ‘never have I ever’. If you’ve done the thing, take a shot,” David answered.

“I’ll start,” Pico said. “Never have I ever got food poisoning.”

David took his shot, then took his turn.

“Never have I ever had a fish for a pet.”

You and Pico both took shots.

The game went on for a bit, until the score was David with three shots, Pico with four, and you with two. 

“Never have I ever…” Pico started, grinning at David. “Fucked a girl.”

David rolled his eyes and took his shot, as well as you. 

“Fine prick, you wanna start targeting? Never have I ever been fucked in the ass!”

Pico chuckled before taking his shot, and you sheepishly took yours. David looked at you with wide eyes and a wider grin.

“BF! I thought you would’ve been the top.”

“We’re both switches, dipshit,” Pico replied casually as you tried not to shrink into yourself from embarrassment. 

“Unbelievable!” David exaggerated. 

The game went on for a couple more rounds until you started to feel the whiskey and decided to cut yourself off.

“Hey, I think I have to tap out.”

“The fuck? You’re only six in,” David said, but Pico punched him in the leg for you.

“Give him a break. Not everyone is an alcoholic like you and me.”

You snickered and laid back on the floor, the stomach pains subsiding as your body started to feel the liquor and go numb. You laid there for a long time, listening to Pico and David go a couple more rounds before eventually quitting the game and just drinking. 

“Hey, Bee, you’re not dead, right?”

You laughed, feeling extremely giddy. It had been a while since you last drank, so your body wasn’t as used to it. “No, you still have to deal with me for a while longer.”

“Gladly,” Pico responded with a voice full of love.

Ever since that night a couple months back, he’d been more and more affectionate. It’s like he’s a whole new person. Granted, unloading your trauma can do that to somebody. 

“Man, I’m glad y’all ended up together. I just knew you had a crush on him, BF.”

“I didn’t at first, is the thing,” you slurred. “He was annoying as fuck when we first met. Still is, sometimes.”

“Wow, can’t believe you’re breaking up with me on my birthday,” Pico joked. “It is true though.”

“You still haven’t told me how you ended up dating. How dare you wait until I leave to start flirting?” David cried.

“I sucked his dick and it was all over from there,” Pico responded.

You groaned. “You’re being annoying again, dear.”

Pico laughed and reached over to poke you on the forehead. “You still love meeeee.”

“Somehow.”

“Man, it’s so fucking hot in your apartment. Can we go on a walk?” David asked.

“You want to go on a walk, in the middle of the night, in winter, in the bad part of fucking Philly?” Pico started. “Sure, let’s go. You down, Bee?”

You groaned, but agreed. “Only if you help me up.”

You held out your arm and let Pico pull you to your unsteady feet. He looked at you with an eyebrow raised.

“You sure you’re good, man? You seem a little gone.”

“Don’t worry about me, baby,” you responded. “I’ll be fine.”

He just shrugged and went to the bedroom, presumably to get his gun. This was a dangerous place after all. He walked back into the living room, shoving his gun into his waistband before motioning to the door. “Let’s fucking rock n’ roll!”

For a bit, the walk was actually fun. The three of you caught up about your lives, David talking about his schooling for graphic design and almost failing out of a couple classes, Pico talking about work and your relationship, and you mentioning that you wrote a new song. When David pushed you to rap, you actually did, thanks to Pico’s encouragement and liquid courage. After you finished, Pico looked at you with amazement. That was the first time he’s heard you rap, and judging by the cheering, he seemed to like it. 

It was nice to finally have a proper friend group. Although David was originally just someone to hang out with, you let go of your hermit lifestyle and let him become one of your actual close friends. You have Pico to thank for that. 

As you were walking past a row of what you assumed to be crackhouses, David stopped the group, claiming he had piss. He went down an alley leaving you and Pico waiting in front of a random building. Once he was out of sight, Pico grabbed your hand and pulled you to him, leading a sloppy makeout session. 

You pulled back to nip at his neck, whispering, “I can’t wait to give you your present when we get home,” into his ear. 

He growled, slamming you against the brick wall and kissing you again. It was going well...until it wasn’t.

“Hey, we don’t like faggots around here!”

You both turned to look at a couple of burly men walking towards you from down the street. David came back right as the men stopped only a couple feet away from you. He gave you a confused and scared look, but you gestured for him to be quiet.

Pico shoved you behind him, hand dangerously near his gun. “The fuck is the problem?” he asked.

“You know what the fucking problem is, son. Doing shit like that around here, dumb move.” It was only then that you noticed one of the men also had a gun.

“It’s fucking 2020, who cares if I like a dick in the ass?” Pico challenged. “I really don’t think it’s any of your concern.” 

The man waved his gun casually as he responded, “You’re like the scourge of the city, you know? It’s our job to take you out.”

Pico finally grabbed his gun, pointing it at the men. “Fucking try it.”

You watched in slow motion horror as Pico shot four bullets, one missing, one hitting the armed man in the shoulder and causing him to drop his gun, and two hitting the other guy in the leg. You were stunned as Pico grabbed your arm and forcefully shoved you, telling you to  _ Go, run! _ You stuttered in your pace but ran, fear fueling your body. David was ahead of you, with Pico trailing just behind. 

You were about to turn a corner when you heard another shot and felt a searing pain in your leg. 

You cried out as you collapsed and clutched your wounded leg. You looked back and saw one of the men picked up the gun and was still pointing at you.

“Bee!” Pico screamed. He turned, hesitating for only a moment before he fired another shot, hitting the guy somewhere you didn’t see. He crumpled on the ground, and you blacked out.

When you came to, you were being carried. You tried to look around, but it was pitch black outside. You realized Pico was the one carrying you, and judging by how slowly he was walking, you guessed you were far away from the men. 

He looked down and saw that you were awake. “Hey, how’re you feeling?”

The pain in your leg returned and you winced. Thank fuck you had alcohol in your system, or it would’ve been way worse. 

“Alright, I guess. Where are we?”

“Just getting home. I’ll take a look at it, don’t worry.” His face read calm, but you could hear his voice shaking. 

Just as he said, you were in the apartment in no time. David plopped down on the couch, out of breath, as Pico carried you to a chair in the kitchen. 

“Well, you haven’t lost a lot of blood, so it’s probably not bad,” he said as he rolled up your pant leg. You hissed in pain as he ran his finger over the wound in your calf, gripping the edge of the chair.

“They only grazed you. You’ll be fine. Wait here.”

You did so as he left the room. You hadn’t quite processed what happened yet, and it was only when Pico came back with a first aid kit that it dawned on you.

“You shot them.”

Pico winced and dropped down to tend to the wound. “I had to. They were gonna kill us.”

You cried out as he splashed rubbing alcohol on your leg. “Are...are they dead?”

“Shouldn’t be,” he responded as he laid a gauze patch and taped it up. “I didn’t aim for anywhere lethal.”

Your mind kept flashing back to the last guy who collapsed. “I saw one of them go down.”

Pico hesitated, looking up at you with sad eyes. “I think I hit him in the thigh. He should be fine.”

“Pico…” you started, but you couldn’t say anything else. The way he fell...it didn’t look like he just got shot in the leg. It’s almost like he went limp.

You noticed Pico’s eyes were twinkling, and you realized he was about to cry. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, Bee.”

You reached out and held his cheek. He leaned into the touch and broke down. You slipped out of the chair and sank down to the floor with him, letting him lean into you as he cried silently. You sat there, shock and alcohol making it really fucking hard to think. Where would you go from here?

From the corner of your eye, you saw David enter the kitchen, freezing and slowly backing out when he saw the scene. Despite everything, you mentally laughed at his awkwardness.

Pico broke away from you, sighing and standing up. He held out a hand to you, which you definitely needed. The moment you put weight on your leg, it gave out. He held on to you and pulled you back up, wrapping an arm around your back to help you back into the living room.

David was back on the couch, watching TV like nothing happened. He turned to you both, looking unsure.

“So...hell of a 21st, huh Pico?”

He snickered, mood changing from solemn to entertained like it was nothing. “Not the worst birthday I’ve had, to be real.”

You tried your best to get back into the spirit of the party, but your heart was no longer in it. You had some serious thinking to do.


	8. The final straw

_ March, 2020. You remember the final straw. _

You sat on the bus listening to music and watching the city go by. You were on your way to the airport to head to New York. David was on Spring Break, and you desperately needed to get away from the house for a few days.

Things had been strained since Pico’s birthday. The two of you had been getting into more arguments, there were nights where you’d sleep on the couch, there were days where you didn’t even see him until late at night doing God knows what. It was true that you still loved each other, but feeling that love was harder to come by. Sometimes he just pissed you off so much you couldn’t be near him.

You weren’t exactly sure if it was all because of that night, or if things had been falling apart for a while. You knew you couldn’t blame him for how he was or what he did, but it still made you uncomfortable. Every now and then, you’d get flashbacks and be paralyzed for several minutes. 

The bus suddenly felt suffocating. You couldn’t do this. You just wanted to be at home in bed. 

You paid the extra fare and started to head home. Pico should’ve been off work by now, which depending on his mood could either be a good thing or a bad thing. You weren’t sure if you could stand him in a bad mood right now.

Finally, you arrived at the bus stop and started to walk home. His apartment wasn’t too far from the stop so you didn’t even bother to play music, stashing your headphones in your pocket. You got to the door and unlocked it with your key, hearing music blaring from inside. You chuckled to yourself as you walked in.

Judging by the clanging, you guessed he was doing dishes. You walked into the kitchen and confirmed your suspicions. Even though he made you mad more than anyone else, it was incredibly adorable to see him doing housework. You walked up to him and tapped his shoulder.

Which you should’ve known was a mistake.

His instincts kicked in immediately. He grabbed your arm and slammed you into the counters, causing you to gasp as the wind was knocked out of you. The next thing you know, the barrel of his gun is pressed against your temple. You hadn’t expected him to be armed in his own home.

“Pico! It’s me!” you shouted. If you had drank anything that day, you surely would’ve pissed yourself from fear.

He blinked, the crazed look in his eyes melting away to recognition. “Bee?”

He let go of you quickly, tossing the gun on the counter and backing away. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

In that moment, the only thing you felt was rage. “Why the fuck do you have your gun on you?!”

“Because I thought I was gonna be home alone!”

“You almost fucking shot me!”

He recoiled like the words hurt him. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were gonna be home!”

You huffed and pushed yourself off the counter, aiming to just go lay in bed. You walked past him, shaking his arm off when he tried to grab you.

“Bee? Are you okay?”

You paused and spun around, adrenaline coursing through your body and making you tremble. “No, I’m not! I almost got lit up by my fucking boyfriend! How am I supposed to respond?”

He deflated. “Are you leaving me?”

The question took your back for a moment. You just planned on sleeping, but apparently your hesitation was enough of an answer for him.

He scowled, walking up to you and getting in your face. “I can’t fucking believe you.”

Your anger returned and you pushed him away from you. “Can’t believe me? Are you fucking serious? Do you blame me for being pissed?”

“Kind of! I told you long ago how I am, and you said you’d love me no matter what, where’s that fucking commitment now?”

“Unbelievable. You’re mad at  _ me _ ?! I didn’t even get to answer you yet!”

“You hesitated. It showed a fucking lot.”

You pushed him again, harder this time. “I never said I still didn’t love you, never said I was leaving!” You tried not to say the next part, but your anger controlled you. “You’re  _ fucking psycho _ !”

His face fell for just a moment before it darkened again. He shoved you out of the way as he walked into the living room. 

“Where the fuck are you going?” you shouted, following him.

He turned to you, and as much as he was trying to keep a straight face, you knew him well enough to know when he’s about to cry. “Get the fuck out of my house.”

Your anger broke, dissolving into shock. “What?”

“Leave. That’s all you seem to be good for anymore.” He scoffed, walking down the hallway. “I can’t fucking believe I trusted you.”

Part of you felt sad, but all you could focus on was how he was acting. “Are you really breaking up with me because I’m pissed I almost died?!”

He paused, but didn’t turn around. “I’m breaking up with you because you never want to be around me anymore. Not since that night. You talk all this shit about loyalty but when something actually happens you can't stand to be near me. So go. Leave me the fuck alone.”

He left you standing there to process what just happened. You finally realized you just got broke up with, and you broke down. Tears streamed down your face as you shouted to him.

“Fuck you! I did so fucking much for you!” Your voice cracked and you wiped your face with your hoodie sleeve. “Motherfucker,” you whispered to yourself as you started to walk to the front door.

You put your hand on the knob, body shaking with fear and hatred and crying. You turned back in the direction of the bedroom, leaving him with a few parting words. 

“I wish I never fucking met you!”


	9. Recovery

_ You remember the recovery of the breakup. _

Two weeks after the breakup, you packed your shit up and officially moved out. He didn’t try to stop you, barely even looked at you. You didn’t try to talk to him.

One month after the breakup, it finally hit you and you stayed in bed for weeks. Your parents tried several times to get you to do something, anything, but you just couldn’t.

Two months after the breakup, you started to piece your life back together. You managed to let David know the situation, to which he left you on read. Pico probably got to him first. You threw your phone in frustration and shattered the screen. 

Three months after the breakup, you managed to get a job. It was terrible but you had to do  _ something _ with your life. Things started to get back to normal, that empty feeling in your chest fading away with every new day of mindless activities. You felt hopeful for the first time in a while.

Four months after the breakup, you managed to make your coworkers your friends. You’d go out with them, party with them, play games with them. Life wasn’t great but it was way better.

Five months after the breakup, you met her. She was a mutual friend, and she was beautiful, smart, funny, caring. She listened to you when you got too drunk one night and finally talked about the breakup to someone else. You didn’t go into specifics, and you barely made any sense, but she rubbed your back anyway. 

Six months after the breakup, you asked her out. She agreed, but only after you met her parents. When they heard you were an aspiring musician, they were elated because they were former rockstars themselves. They have one rule for you; show them how worthy you are of their daughter, and you can be with her. 

Seven months after the breakup and here you are. Fighting to keep her by your side. You managed to beat her dad and a couple of surprisingly good kids in Halloween costumes in singing and rap battles, and you are on your way to meet your third opponent. Your stomach twists with nerves, you can’t let your guard down. You thought the kids would’ve been easy, but they were way harder than her father. Who knows what this new guy could do?

You feel GF place her hand in yours and give a reassuring squeeze. “You doing okay?”

You nod, taking a deep breath and shaking out the nerves. “Nervous, but I can do this.”

She smiles warmly. “I know you can!”

God, you think you love her. You never met someone as genuinely good as she is. Even though this is all kinda ridiculous, you’d do anything for her.

You arrive at the location for the next battle, near some train tracks. The speakers are already set up, and GF takes her spot on top of them. She gives you a thumbs up, and you smile in return.

Just then, you hear the sound of your opponent walk towards you. You turn your attention from GF to the mystery person...and nearly faint.

He strolls up to his assigned spot, gun in one hand and microphone in the other. He gives you a mocking smile.

“Hey, pretty boy. Long time no see.”

“P-Pico?”

  
_ What the fuck? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i will be making a sequel to this lmao

**Author's Note:**

> If you've got idea for fics you can reach me at my tumblr: alienshea :) 
> 
> I hope you have a good day!


End file.
